


Busy Streets; Busy Lives

by Ivegotaheadlineforyou



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, London, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 08:06:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14101071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivegotaheadlineforyou/pseuds/Ivegotaheadlineforyou
Summary: Modern AU - West End. Somehow it all fits together: their art, their lives, and their love.Poe is a string musician playing in an orchestra. Rey is an up and coming choreographer. Finn is staring in a West End show. Small character studies, and a little bit of a slice of life.Vaguely inspired by Taylor Swift's State of Grace





	Busy Streets; Busy Lives

**Author's Note:**

> I just had this idea of these three living in London and making art and being in love. You can see some connections to their canon selves, but it's very AU. Also very **very** unbeta-ed or edited.  
> Kudos and comments are always welcome!  
> Follow me on tumblr: IveGotAHeadlineForYou

_This love is brave and wild_

 

_And I never saw you coming_

_And I’ll never be the same_

 

_This is a state of grace_

_This is the worthwhile fight_

_Love is a ruthless game_

_Unless you play it good and right_

_These are the hands of fate_

_You’re my Achilles heel_

_This is the golden age of something good_

_And right and real_

 

She was always out of the flat early. Travel mug in hand, and an extra thermos in her bag, she made her way to the underground. Leaving wasn’t always easy this early in the morning, especially when the entire flat radiated comfort and warmth. Wrapped in her many jumpers and a borrowed leather jacket, she made her way to the studio.

When she exited the underground the sun was fighting with the clouds, casting a warming glow over the city. Her bag was heavy on her shoulder, and her mug was empty as she walked into the building, taking the lift to her studio space. She preferred to work in the mornings, while the city was still waking up, the only other people in the building were absorbed in their own work. It gave her the space to breathe.

Rey had spent a long time teaching her body to be softer. Growing up without much stability caused her to be tense, her spine always pulled taught and her limbs always moving with an intensity that should not be instinctual for a child of nine. As she got older, self defence classes taught her body that there was power in grace, in fluidity. Dance classes taught her that there was beauty in it as well. 

By the time she was 18, she was a spitfire on a stage, showing deadly contrasts between emotion and power, traditional styles and contemporary influences, light and dark. She was able to blend classic training with new music, able to pull pointe work and hip hop together. She was able to develop a stylised fight scene that brought those watching to the brink of their seat, and brought tears to their eyes. 

But that was years ago. That was before, when she had been working under the table at various dance studios across London, being taught in exchange for sweeping the floors and cleaning the mirrors. Teaching for some extra cash when she could. That was before she had been accepted into the choreographic institute after an audition on a whim. That was before she started booking jobs that actually paid. 

But all of her work still came back to that power — the beauty, the fluidity, the emotion that the body could convey with the slightest movement. She dropped her bags by the mirrors at the front, and sat down to pull off all her layers, and put on her shoes. She’d start with a soft shoe this morning, before possibly transitioning into something else later in the day. She stood up and turned on her music, soft piano music keeping time in the room. She held her hand onto the bar and rolled her spine up, her head coming up last. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror — dark leggings, loose white shirt, and nude canvas slippers. Her short hair half pulled up in a bun. This was one of the few places she found she was really in her element. 

_Let’s go_ , she thought, and her body began to warm up before she moved for the first time. 

 

***

 

His mornings always started after hers. He always woke up to her leaving, but that didn’t mean he got out of bed when she left. He stayed within the safety of the bed, warmed by bodies, for as long as he could justify. Then he would drag himself out of the bed and into the kitchen where there was always a pot of coffee on the warming hob. 

As he poured his coffee, he felt the small ginger cat threading through his legs, his tail tickling his calf.

“Morning, BB,” Poe mumbled as he took a sip of his coffee. He put his mug down, went to scoop out some food for the hungry cat, and then grabbed his calendar to sit down. It was both a blessing and a curse to be as busy as he had been lately. His instruments were getting a lot of use, and he loved playing, but he wished he had more time to spend at home, not as bogged down by dates and times and places to meet.

He was a great teacher when it came to the strings. He had been playing guitar since he was young. Then came the base, which became the upright base. The upright transitioned into the cello. His obsession with the strings only grew, as he added violin and viola to the collection. He was one of the best string musicians London had seen in a long time, and his knack for learning them quickly, and teaching them well, made his attention all the more valuable.

He had a few lessons today, teaching younger students guitar, violin, and teaching cello to one ambitious girl who was barely as tall as instrument. Then he had a break before heading into the heart of the city for work that evening. 

He finished his coffee, and popped some toast in the toaster before heading into the bedroom to change. The leather jacket was missing from the chair in their room, as was his favourite green cardigan, so he improvised something casual but presentable. As he finished, he heard the toast pop, and he went over to give the sleeping figure a kiss on the head. He wrapped the toast in some kitchen towel, grabbed his violin case, and after giving the small cat, contently curled up on a barstool, a scratch behind the ear, he was out.

Poe didn’t mind the commute into work, loving this city that he had called home for the last almost 10 years. It was a constant inspiration for him. Playing music for him had always been second nature, and when he realised he could make a career out of it, it became his life’s main goal. Thankfully, that goal brought him immense joy — he was constantly surrounded by music, an incredibly supportive community, and people who loved him wholeheartedly.

 

***

 

The best part about his job was getting to sleep in. The worst was waking up to a cold bed most mornings. Sometimes BB came to lie on the bed with him but that was no substitute. He slid out of bed, and into the shower, knowing that he had a long day ahead of him. If he used the other body wash in the shower, because the scent of citrus and sandalwood was the kind of comfort he needed that morning, he wouldn’t have admitted to it. 

After his shower, he dressed, ate, and left the apartment quite quickly. He needed to get to the theatre, as today was another long day of press. His show had just opened, and the press, he realised, was always worse after opening night. He glanced at his watch and, realising he was running late, stepped to the curb of the street and hailed a cab. 

He gave the address of the theatre to the driver and sat back as he allowed himself to doze. The others loved the city in the morning and afternoon, but the city for him came alive at sunset, when everyone was inspired by the last light of the day, by the promise that the evening held. 

When the driver pulled up to the theatre, Finn pressed some cash into the drivers hand and wished him a good day, before hopping out and walking around to the theatre’s stage door. He buzzed in, heard the door click open, and pulled up towards him, slipping inside. Come night time, this door would be swarming with people, but very few people were around this early in the afternoon. 

Finn said hello to their door and security staff, poking his head in to see the admin team and say hello, before heading across the stage to get to his dressing room. The inside had been painted a dark, but warm brown at his request, as he had truly hated the stark black and white design that the previous person in the dressing room had had. He wanted his room to be warming and comforting. So with the paint, the large couch that took up most of room, and the pictures of loved ones scattered around, he found he didn’t truly hate coming into work early. He sat down in his chair and let himself look at the pictures of smiling faces and awe-stricken eyes, wondering how in the hell he got to be so lucky — surrounded by loved ones, fans that cared about him, and a role in a successful play in the West End that was rewarding as an actor to do every night. 

He truly had won the jackpot. 

 

***

 

For how early her day started, she always finished work earliest too. Rey’s job as a choreographer allowed her to not work during the actual evening performance hours, which she was grateful for. Poe and Finn on the other hand, were just heading into work as she was finishing. Poe’s schedule was not as set as Finn’s, as repertoire was always changing and so were his hours. Finn’s job, on the other hand, was structured, and had a specific start time and end time. 

Rey found herself in a coffee shop near Finn’s theatre as his show was starting. She had seen it before and had some paperwork to get done, so she thought she’d wait there until one of her other thirds arrived. Poe was only needed for a few of the pieces in the pit that night, and was able to dip out after the first intermission.

He had texted Rey once he had gotten into Soho, and met up with her at her coffee shop. She watched him walk in the door, and she pulled her headphones out and stood to greet him. He rested a hand on her hips, and she cupped his face and gently kissed him.

“Hi,” she said, smiling and letting go of him.

“How was your day, love?” he asked, smiling at her.

The next two hours passed like that, catching each other up on both the exciting moments and the monotony of the day. When it was time to pick up their final third, they packed up their things and walked the two block to Finn’s theatre. 

They walked around to the stage door and saw a few people stood by the barriers, holding ticket stubs, programmes, and black markers. They stood back from the door, knowing that when Finn emerged, he would kindly sign everything and take photos. That man had so much love to give, and this small bit of limelight suited him. Rey would not do well with that sort of attention, and anytime it was given to her, she tried to push it away as quickly as possible. As for Poe, he got to spend his days with budding musicians who looked up to him, and that was so great for him. But any more and his ego would never be the same.

When Finn emerged from the stage door, Poe and Rey heard some quiet gasps and a few nervous giggles. The two of them smiled and watched their boy from afar, fingers intertwined, and her head resting on his shoulder. They watched as Finn signed before leaving the barricades and heading over to where he saw his lovers standing.

Rey let go of Poe’s hand to meet Finn halfway and kiss him soundly.

“Missed you today,” She said as she pulled back from the kiss. He smiled at her and leaned over to kiss her again. Poe made his was over to the two of them. When he reached them, he reached around Rey to pull Finn into an overdue kiss.

“Missed you both,” Finn said, hoisting his bag further over his shoulder and smiling at them. The stage door audiences watched their interaction with a sense of confusion, but they also smiled because they knew that the actor they so loved was happy.

“Come on,” Poe said, taking hold of Finn’s hand and putting his arm around Rey’s shoulders. “Let’s head home, and we’ll order a curry when we get there.”

Rey smiled at this and lead began leading them to the tube. She was always the first to leave in the mornings, and the hardest part wasn’t leaving the apartment. It was leaving them. She knew that all three of them got to spend their days doing what they loved, but this was her favourite part — coming together at the end of the night, and being welcomed home by two sets of loving arms. 

When they found seats on the tube and began their journey home, she reached across Poe to hold onto Finn’s hand, and she leaned her head against the musician's shoulder. Finn held her hand tightly and kissed Poe’s temple. And even though their flat was lovely, they didn’t need it, because their homes were with one another, and that would never truly change. They had somehow carved out a small piece of the world for themselves. They had found the perfect place to be themselves, and to be alive and in love. The way their bodies fit together, they way their individual rhythms came together to create something brand new was what inspired them. Inspired them to keep making good and true art, and to want to come home at the end of the day.


End file.
